


Burning Bright

by Jain



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Community: apocalyptothon, First Time, M/M, POV Third Person, Past Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first sign that something was wrong had been the deepening hollows under Morgana's eyes. Arthur had smirked inwardly, chalking it up to the effects of aging, and made a note to tease Morgana about her fading looks sometime when they weren't at the breakfast table and she couldn't pour her beer into his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Bright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phiremangston](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phiremangston/gifts).



It took a while for Arthur to realize anything was wrong. The first sign--not that he'd realized it at the time--had been the deepening hollows under Morgana's eyes. He'd smirked inwardly, chalking it up to the effects of aging, and made a note to tease Morgana about her fading looks sometime when they weren't at the breakfast table and she couldn't pour her beer into his lap.

It all would've been a hilarious joke, except that before he found the opportunity to mock her the days passed and Morgana kept looking paler and thinner and more and more nervy. After the sixth time that Arthur greeted her in the corridor only to have Morgana yelp and clutch her heart, he knew that something had to be done. There was a good chance that Morgana would laugh in his face were he to suggest that she confide in him, of course, but that's what servants were for.

"Why do I have to figure out what's wrong with her?" Merlin asked with the wide-eyed cheekiness that made Arthur want to duck his head into a fountain. "She's your father's ward; you should just ask her."

"I would, but for the fact that she has execrable taste and likes you better."

Merlin abruptly stopped protesting and looked torn between amusement and pride.

Arthur rolled his eyes at him. "If you need additional persuasion, I'm pretty sure that there's no one in the stocks right now."

"Oh, fine," Merlin said. He headed for the door at a brisk pace, muttering to himself.

Arthur smiled to himself in satisfaction and took another spoonful of soup...only to splutter indignantly when he discovered it to be ice-cold. Really, the number of drafts that his otherwise snug bedchamber was susceptible to was absolutely intolerable. The next time Merlin required correction, Arthur was going to skip the stocks and have Merlin seal all the cracks in his walls instead.

* * *

Despite Arthur's blithe expectation that Merlin would simply sail up to Morgana and ask her personal questions about her sleeping habits and emotional state, Merlin had _some_ sense of propriety. (And wasn't it funny how Arthur, who liked to pretend that Merlin was an unmannered lout, so frequently did things that proved he had none himself?) But there were other and better ways to discover what the lords and ladies of Camelot did behind closed doors.

"I don't know what to tell you," Gwen said worriedly. "She _hasn't_ been sleeping or eating properly, but when I ask why she refuses to answer. She's even taken to locking her bedchamber at night. I can't go in--not even to tend the fire or anything--until she unlocks the doors in the morning."

"Does she have a tendency to talk in her sleep?" Merlin asked. "Or to sleepwalk, perhaps?"

Gwen nodded. "Not often, but when her nightmares are particularly bad, I've heard her say things in her sleep. She's never sleepwalked that I've seen, though." She gave Merlin an earnest look. "I haven't wanted to disturb Ar--the prince, but maybe you could suggest to him that he talk to my lady and see if she might be more comfortable sharing her secrets with him."

Merlin gave Gwen a hopefully reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'll see to it," he promised. "Don't worry."

* * *

Of course, what he meant by that was that _were_ he to approach Arthur about Morgana, Arthur would tell him to stop faffing about and take care of it himself, so Merlin might as well go do that directly. Also, Arthur and Gwen had been strange about each other since they'd broken things off decisively, not four weeks ago. Gwen seemed natural enough except when she had to interact with or talk about or be in the same room with Arthur--which, given that he was the prince and she Morgana's maid, happened several times a day.

Arthur, on the other hand, seemed determined to conquer all of Albion for some reason that he refused to discuss and that Merlin suspected boiled down to Arthur wanting to hit people a lot. It wasn't an entirely healthy impulse, in any case, so Merlin found himself separating his life above- and belowstairs more assiduously than he'd ever done before, in an attempt to give Arthur's heart room to heal. Telling Arthur all about how Gwen was relying on him to save Morgana would _not_ help.

Merlin's initial rap at Morgana's door received no answer. After a brief pause, he knocked again, considerably louder. This time he heard a faint, "Come in," from beyond the heavy oak door, and he opened it to peer inside.

Morgana was seated, her head resting on one of her hands. "My lady," he said uncertainly; she waved him in. Seeing her at close range, he could understand Arthur's and Gwen's concerns.

"I...er...had a somewhat personal question to ask you," he said.

Morgana's dull eyes lit faintly with interest. "Yes?" she asked.

"Is everything all right? You seem...unwell." _That_ was an understatement; Morgana was pale and drawn in a way that paint couldn't conceal, despite Gwen's skill with cosmetics.

Morgana shook her head. "I'm just a little tired," she said with an unconvincing smile.

Merlin gestured surreptitiously, casting a spell that--if it worked properly--ought to impress Morgana with a desire to speak the truth. "I heard that you've been having nightmares," he said in careful tones. "Could I ask what you've been dreaming of?"

The smile slid off her face. Morgana stared sightlessly over his shoulder, as though the question had pulled her back into her nightmares even as she sat before him. "Fire," she whispered.

Merlin suppressed a start. Fear of fire was unremarkable in the villages and hamlets of Albion, where a wayward spark catching on a thatch roof could burn an entire family to death before anyone could sound the alarm, but Morgana had lived all her life in stone castles. For her, fire was warmth and cooked food and comfort, nothing sinister...with one exception. Still, there had been no recent executions, whether of condemned witches or non-magical folk. That Morgana should now dream repeatedly of fire--dreams that made her pale and subdued and nervous--was troubling.

"The same dream every time?" Merlin asked.

There was a slight pause as Morgana shook off her momentary reverie and focused on him once again. "As near as I can tell," she said lightly. "I'm...quite close to the fire in my dreams. It's difficult to see much."

Merlin nodded, trying his best to keep his expression blank. "Er...Gaius said that I ought to bring you this," he said. (Another half-truth; Gaius hadn't been in his rooms when Merlin stopped by earlier that day, so Merlin had taken a bottle of sleeping draught on his own initiative.) He handed Morgana the small glass bottle, which she took with a rueful smile.

"It hasn't been working for me recently, but I'll try it again," she said.

"I could try to prepare a sleeping draught for you," Merlin offered. "I have a book with a number of recipes, and perhaps one of them is stronger than the one you're currently taking." Indeed, since Gaius's sleeping draught wasn't magical, this was almost a guarantee.

Morgana smiled again, more genuinely. "Thank you, Merlin. I'd appreciate that."

* * *

"Wait a second. You're trying to tell me that Morgana looks like walking death all because of a few bad _dreams?_" Arthur said incredulously.

Merlin shrugged, somehow managing to look even more like an amiable idiot than usual.

"She's not a child. Who actually makes himself ill over _nightmares?_"

"Morgana," Merlin said, in a tone that was both matter-of-fact and reproachful.

After a moment's consideration, Arthur conceded the point. Regardless of how _ridiculous_ he might find Morgana's oversensitivity, the fact that her illness was caused by her own dreams didn't make her any less ill. In a way, it made everything worse. An actual illness could be cured, while the only cure for dreams was either to hope they went away or to drug the dreamer into insensibility every night. Neither of those sounded like a particularly good option to Arthur.

"Has Gaius been informed of her condition?"

Merlin nodded. "He's doing what he can for her. I, ah, may need to go on a short journey in a couple of days to resupply some of the necessary ingredients for a sleeping draught Morgana's begun taking."

"Yes, of course," Arthur said. "And if it's any distance that you'll have to travel, I or one of my knights can accompany you if you like."

A startled yet somewhat pleased expression spread over Merlin's face. "I'm sure that won't be necessary. I wouldn't say 'no' to the loan of a horse, though."

Arthur gave his permission, of course, even as he wondered idly whether Merlin were aware that any of the royal horses were worth considerably more than a knight, and only slightly less than Arthur himself. Considering Merlin's air of cheerful oblivion, he rather suspected not.

* * *

Merlin was sound asleep when a frantic banging at his door woke him, bare seconds before Gwen burst into the room. "Merlin!" she cried, as Merlin fumbled the blankets more tightly about his naked body. "It's Morgana. You have to come immediately!"

"All right, I will," Merlin assured her. "Just as soon as I'm dressed."

Gwen's eyes dropped almost unwillingly to his lap, and then she turned almost purple with embarrassment and darted out of the room. The door slammed shut behind her.

Three minutes later, Merlin was decently clad and hurrying down the corridors after Gwen.

"She was crying in her sleep," Gwen reported, wringing her hands worriedly. "And didn't stop even after I woke her. And when I suggested a bit of breakfast might cheer her up, she was nearly sick. Gaius is with her now, but he wanted me to fetch you, as well."

By that point they'd reached Morgana's rooms, and the two of them jostled each other a little at the door before Merlin stepped back to let Gwen precede him.

Morgana looked up at the two of them with haunted eyes. "It's not just me," she said, her voice wracked and terrible. "It's everyone. All of us will burn. I saw..." She gagged slightly, and Merlin whispered a bit of a spell to fill the room with the scent of ginger.

"As you can see," Gaius interjected smoothly, "the situation has become rather more critical."

"Do you know when?" Merlin asked, though he suspected the answer already. The potion he'd been giving Morgana was quite strong; only an imminent event of disastrous proportions could allow her to escape its power.

"Today," Morgana said bleakly, confirming his suspicions. "I saw that spray of flowers in my dream." She pointed towards the vase of pinks and baby's breath on her table.

Merlin's gaze slipped over the innocent-looking bouquet, and then he turned his attention back on Gaius. "What do you need me to do?"

"Without knowing the origins of the encroaching disaster, our ability to combat it directly is rather limited. Still, it seems apparent that we'll need to offer protection to the castle and the townspeople. Perhaps from a dragon attack or something similar?"

Merlin nodded, his mind racing. There had to be close to a thousand people in Camelot, and where could they possibly go that would offer sufficient protection? Then it struck him. "The caves," he blurted.

Gaius raised an eyebrow at him.

"They're large enough to fit everyone, and I can improve the caves' natural defensive capabilities rather than creating a shield from scratch." Merlin could hear Gwen's startled gasp at his admission of his magical abilities, but the situation was too dire to merit even the briefest pause.

"All right. Merlin, you need to start preparing yourself to do that. Take whatever books you need into the caves and practice until you're certain you're ready. Gwen and Morgana, you start assembling the townspeople and leading them into the caves. And I," he drew himself up with a look of grim determination, "will speak to Uther."

* * *

Uther's and Gaius's argument could be heard from outside the throne room--or rather, Uther's half could be; Gaius was considerably quieter than his father was being. Which didn't mean that he looked any less impassioned. Arthur approached the two of them warily.

"Father?" he said. "You sent for me?"

Uther tore his eyes away from Gaius and made a visible effort to calm himself. "Gaius believes that Camelot will soon be under attack, though he refuses to explain how or why, or even whence he got this information."

Arthur gave a cautious nod. "Even without that knowledge, surely it wouldn't hurt to prepare for the worst."

Uther made a complicated grimace that Arthur assumed meant, _I don't_ want _to, even though you're probably right._ "He also claims that the best course of action is for everyone in Camelot to retreat to the subterranean caves, without even a single knight aboveground to fight this mysterious threat."

"_What?_" Arthur asked. Uther nodded grimly.

"Your Highness," Gaius protested, "while my knowledge of this attack is limited to that hinted at in a couple of messages, so vague that I have no solid information on the attack other than that it will be devastating and that it is possibly of a magical nature, I have no doubt of the messages' truthfulness. And, in the absence of knowledge, it could be suicide for anyone to remain behind."

"No," Uther said. "I will not leave Camelot entirely undefended. Though I am willing to trust your judgement regarding the presence of this threat, do not presume too much."

Gaius hadn't remained in Uther's good graces for so many years without a healthy serving of discretion, but Arthur could see the underlying grief in his eyes as he nodded acquiescence.

"Arthur," Uther said turning to him. "Select a dozen knights to remain aboveground as a sentry force. You may not be one of them. Afterwards, help evacuate the castle and townspeople as quickly as possible."

Now it was Arthur's turn to hide his bitterness as he acknowledged Uther's order. Twelve knights was too few to mount a serious defense and too many were the threat as serious as Gaius believed it to be. Better to leave a single guard, or at most two, who could sound the alarm as needed to call for reinforcements. But Arthur knew his father too well to think that he would allow further criticism of his plans, and attempting to do so might prompt Uther to change his mind about evacuating the other thousand plus inhabitants.

"I'll put out the call for volunteers," he said.

Uther stared at him impassively. "However you choose to do it is fine. Just make sure it gets done."

* * *

Merlin could tell when Uther was informed of the threat to Camelot, because the previous trickle of people arriving in the caves turned to a flood, with knights directing them where and how quickly to move. There was also a noticeable drop in the personal belongings brought by each person, though Merlin was relieved to see that most people still brought extra blankets and that the knights were better laden, carrying barrels of food and drink and huge haunches of meat.

Even at the faster pace set by the knights, it seemed an age before he caught sight of Arthur's golden hair and, entering the cave with him, Gaius and Gwen and Morgana and Uther.

Arthur surveyed the open expanse and then began circling through the crowd slowly, stopping to speak to people in no particular pattern that Merlin could discern. Mostly he spoke to knights, but several townspeople and a few servants also received a few brief words from Arthur. It must have been close to an hour later when Arthur finally reached Merlin's side. Merlin grinned a little shakily in greeting.

"So, what's your plan for protecting us?" Arthur asked quietly.

Merlin gaped at him, and Arthur chose to misunderstand his silence.

"Gaius is keeping my father occupied on the other side of the cave, and no one else is near enough to overhear," he said. He looked about briefly. "I gather that your oversized book is carefully hidden somewhere?"

"Yeah," Merlin managed at last, since there seemed little point in denying it. "There's a, um, spell that creates a sort of shield around an enclosed area. I'm going to cast it on the walls of the cave, and it'll hopefully protect us until the attack is over."

"Will it take much effort to maintain once the spell's been cast?" Arthur asked, as casually as though he'd been discussing magic with Merlin all his life.

Merlin shook his head. "Once it's cast, it ought to be set. I won't have to touch it again until it's time to dismantle it."

"Best to cast it now, then," Arthur said. "Since we don't know when this attack might occur."

"What?" Merlin looked about the cave, startled, surveying the clusters of knights for faces that weren't there no matter how hard he looked. "But where are--"

"They're not coming," Arthur said shortly.

Merlin flinched, and then he met Arthur's pained eyes and nodded his sympathy. He turned his attention to the cave walls and whispered, "Crioch-dionaidh," and a shimmer of silver spread quickly over the surface, encompassing them on all sides. Merlin hoped that it just looked like flickering torchlight to anyone facing the walls of the cave. "Okay," he said. "It's done. Now all we have to do is wait."

It took less time than he'd expected, far less time than was at all comfortable, considering how narrowly they'd escaped what happened next. After casting the spell, Merlin reached out and borrowed a small part of a squirrel's consciousness so that he could watch. He passed the time by telling Arthur of the squirrel's activities--interspersed by Arthur's frequent complaints regarding the dullness of squirrel life--when the squirrel and Merlin were both startled by the sight of giant, flaming rocks falling from the sky.

"Arthur!" he said, clutching Arthur's arm. He distantly noted Arthur's worried look and the hand that he placed comfortingly over Merlin's, and then the rocks struck and Merlin was simultaneously tossed out of the squirrel's mind as it died and shaken onto the floor of the cave with everyone else as the earth rocked alarmingly.

"What the fuck was that?" Arthur demanded, his voice rising above the confused, frightened babble from the rest of the crowd. His eyes scanned them quickly even as he interrogated Merlin; apparently everything was to his satisfaction since he didn't leap up but remained by Merlin's side.

"It was...unbelievable. I can't..."

"Try me," Arthur said.

Merlin gulped. "These huge, flaming rocks came out of the sky and hit Camelot. It's even worse than it felt--the shield I created for the cave could withstand a dragon attack, and yet we could still felt the impact."

Contrary to all expectation, Arthur didn't even seem that surprised. He waved Gaius over and had Merlin repeat what he'd seen. "It sounds similar to certain accounts by Pliny the Elder, don't you think?" Arthur added.

Gaius nodded. "Yes, sire, I do. Of course, that doesn't rule out the possibility of magic, but it's certainly also possible that there's a natural explanation for it." He turned a disapproving eye on Merlin. "As you would know yourself if you _read_ occasionally, Merlin."

Arthur snickered, and Merlin flushed with embarrassment. "I read," he protested.

"Books on magic, yes," Gaius said. "Anything and everything else, no." His face turned serious suddenly. "Can you determine the extent of the damage from in here?"

"Maybe." Merlin closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, seeking another creature whose eyes he could borrow. There was an ominous silence inside his head, and he stretched farther and farther and...

"Merlin!" Arthur snapped, shaking his shoulder.

Merlin blinked at him, and something in Arthur's face settled.

"You've been gone for a while, and you didn't seem to hear us," he said more quietly, as the hand he'd used to shake Merlin eased into a companionable clasp of his shoulder. "What did you see?"

"Nothing," Merlin said. "And I searched...I don't know, ten or fifteen miles in every direction? There's nothing alive out there that I could find."

Arthur nodded woodenly, and Merlin knew he was thinking--as Merlin was trying not to let himself think--of Gawain and Bors and Kay and all the other knights who hadn't had the benefit of the caves' protection and, beyond them, the dozens of farm families who lived outside of Camelot's environs, too far for anyone to reach them earlier that day and warn them of their danger.

"A cataclysmic event of these proportions could render the area outside these caves unsafe for days or weeks, possibly even years," Gaius said, his own eyes shadowed.

Arthur dropped his hand from Merlin's shoulder at last; Merlin wished that he hadn't. "We only have provisions for a week at most," he said. "And that's assuming that there aren't any babies whose mothers' milk has dried up, since we didn't think to bring any goats with us."

"Merlin?" Gaius asked.

Merlin shook his head helplessly. "I don't know of any spells to create food from nothing. Or, rather, I could make the food, but it wouldn't nourish us. We'd just feel more comfortable as we starved to death."

"There must be _something_," Arthur said. "We can't have survived something like this only to die of starvation in a cave."

"No, I know," Merlin said despairingly. "But I can't-- Wait!" A spell tugged at his memory, something that seemed out of a fairytale and that he'd used a couple of years previous to deal with a rampaging boar that had attacked him in the forest. "Don't let anyone see," he said and moved a few nearby rocks so that he could take out his book.

"Oh, yes, _very_ carefully hidden," Arthur muttered sarcastically, but Merlin ignored him with the ease of long practice.

"Here," he said at last, pointing triumphantly to the open page. "It's a spell that would put everyone in the cave to a deep sleep, one that could last hundreds of years if necessary."

Gaius nodded thoughtfully. "I presume you intend to set it to wake yourself at regular intervals, and then release everyone else from the spell only when it's safe to leave."

"Yeah," Merlin said. "What do you think?"

He looked at Arthur, who glanced over the spell and then shrugged. "If you think it'll work. It's not like we have many other options." He fixed Merlin with a sudden fierce gaze. "I want you to set the spell to wake both of us together, though."

"All right," Merlin said, a little uncertainly.

Arthur shrugged again in response to his questioning look. "There's no point in you carrying the burden alone when I'm right here with you. Besides, if this situation _does_ persist for years, you'll be glad of a bit of conversation when you wake."

An image flashed into Merlin's mind of waking ten, fifteen, twenty times, with only the deathly still bodies of Camelot's people for company as he searched desperately for signs that _finally_ it was safe to release them, and he shuddered inwardly, even as a warm glow suffused him at Arthur's consideration. "Yeah, okay," he said. He opened his mouth to cast the spell, when Arthur suddenly put a hand on his forearm and said, "Wait."

Then Arthur stood and called loudly, "Gaius believes that there's about to be another attack very soon. Could everyone please lie down in a comfortable position, so that no one gets hurt?" There was an upset murmur of voices, and a few children started crying, but everyone obeyed Arthur's command. "So nobody falls down when you put them to sleep," Arthur murmured as he sat back down next to Merlin.

"Thanks," Merlin said, and waited until Gaius followed the others' lead before he cast the spell. An instant hush spread over the cave as everyone dropped asleep at once. Merlin and Arthur looked at each other.

Arthur reached over to place a hand over Gaius's chest and held the position for long, intent minutes. "Extraordinary," he said. "His heart's beating maybe a hundredth the speed that it usually does, and his breathing's the same." He looked about the cave, and said, "What about the food? Will it spoil, or is it also affected by the spell?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'll need to preserve it with a different spell." He searched his book quickly and did so. "Anything else?" he asked.

Arthur's eyes stopped surveying the caves and he turned back towards Merlin. "Just one thing." He took Merlin's right hand in his and looked seriously into his eyes. "Thank you," he said, and before Merlin knew what he was about Arthur had lifted his hand and kissed the back of it.

Merlin's hand shook slightly as he pulled it free of Arthur's. "It wasn't just me," he said. "Morgana and Gwen and Gaius all--oh, and your father and you--"

"And I'll thank them all for the roles they played later," Arthur said easily. "Though possibly I won't kiss Gaius's hand when I do so. But right now I'm thanking you."

"You didn't have to kiss mine, either," Merlin muttered, feeling his face burn with embarrassment.

Arthur's eyes sharpened on him, until Merlin felt even more exposed and off-guard than he'd been earlier, and then Arthur said, "No, I think I did," right before he leaned forward and kissed Merlin on the mouth.

Merlin was shocked into stillness, feeling the press of Arthur's soft, warm lips against his own, before Arthur pulled away gently.

"You can be angry if you like, though I'd prefer it if you didn't try to kill me in my sleep, given that you're about to have a great deal of opportunity and no one to stop you if you tried," Arthur said.

Merlin laughed despite himself, and Arthur relaxed minutely before him. "That's not anything you have to worry about," he promised and dragged the book closer as he lay down on the floor of the cave, watching as Arthur did the same. Then he reached for Arthur and began to whisper the words of the spell that would send them both to sleep for the next month, lying beside each other hand in hand.


End file.
